We have been blogging for years, seven if I am correct. I suspect that my thoughts tonight have already been reflected in a prior year’s blog.
I have previously blogged about my conversion from a “procrastination queen” to an “early doer.” In the past, I thrived on completing my work immediately prior to its due date. Now, at work, I generally complete my tasks several days early. And as Mitch can attest, I usually have my blogs posted by Saturday morning or, at the latest, Sunday morning.
Driving along in my car, having a pleasant conversation, suddenly Eve yelled "OWW!" She looked at the underside of her left forearm and there was a red mark, about a quarter inch, shaped somewhat like Puerto Rico. I tried to get a look at it but had to keep my eyes on the road.
I usually take route 106/107 to work and this past Thursdy morning was no different. The only exception was that traffic was at a complete standstill. After about a half hour of keeping myself busy listening to XM radio, NPR and a bunch of other stuff, traffic moved a little bit to reveal that the delay was not an accident, which I thought it was, but a crew from Asplundh were trimming trees around the power lines. I thought what a strange name for a tree company. I looked it up and found that Asplundh is Swedish in origin and actually means a grove of Aspen trees.
This is another blog about our new puppy Charcoal (a little 10 pound Shnoodle).
Last weekend Joanne went out and I decided it was the perfect opportunity for me to take Charcoal out on a walk on the road. It was our first "road trip" and I was nervous.
From the start she was straining at the leash far more heavily than her 10 pounds. Every time a car approached I conservatively stepped onto the grass and pulled her to my side.
The bottle was on the top shelf of a little antique shop in the village of Menemsha on Martha's Vineyard. It was old and dirty - a soda or beer bottle. On the clear glass, I could make out the embossed writing. “Henry Immen's Sons, 46 & 48 Commercial St, Greenpoint, LI”. That's what made me think. Greenpoint is in Brooklyn, Greenport is on Long Island. I had to check further.
OK, so Scraps is now gone all night Sat, all day Sunday (I call but few places are open) and now Monday morning I start making calls again. The Islip town shelter gives me the name and number of a young woman who picked up a dog of similar description late Sat. and I call the woman around 10am. She grills me a bit on describing the dog and asks me for papers (for which I have none), but our convo about how/where the dog usually gets out and where she found her less than 500 feet from my home seems to convince her that the dog is indeed mine.